


Song of the Caged Bird

by CityofAangels



Series: MCU Kink Bingo 2017 [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Tony Stark, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Cage, Dom!Tony Stark, Firefighter!Bucky, Fluff, Gentle Dom!Tony Stark, Handcuffs, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt/Comfort, Ignored Safeword, M/M, Mentioned James ''Bucky Barnes''/Brock Rumlow, Panic Attack, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding Crops, Sex Club, Sub!Bucky, Vibrator, at least a bit, sex toy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:49:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityofAangels/pseuds/CityofAangels
Summary: Bucky thinks that his relationship with Brock Rumlow is just what he's looking for... Until the man ignores his safeword and hard limits.Luckily, Tony is here to save the day!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't put Rape/Non-con warnings of this because there isn't any actual sex.  
> Be warned, though, that Rumlow DOES ignore one of Bucky's hard limits AND his safeword and puts him in a situation where he totally panics (and righteously so).  
> So, trigger warnings for non-respect of limits and safeword, and bad BDSM etiquette (do not ever EVER let a sub alone)
> 
> This was written for the 'Cage' square of MCU Kink Bingo.

''I've got a surprise for you, baby boy,'' Rumlow's deep voice rumbled, and Bucky looked up at him from where he was kneeling.

''A- a surprise, sir?''

 

A harsh tug on the leash linked to his collar made him look down again, and he winced, hoping no one in the club had seen the way he needed to be reprimanded.

 

''I didn't tell you you could speak, did I? So shut up and come with me.''

 

With another tug on the leash, Bucky got up, legs shaking after kneeling for so long, and, stumbling, followed his dom along the corridor to one of the club's private rooms, that customers could rent for some fun when they wanted more toys that they had at home.

He'd been with Rumlow for two months now. Bucky had been a customer of the club since a few years, and enjoyed spending nights there, sometimes just to watch, sometimes looking for someone to help him take the pressure of his responsibilities as a firefighter off. Two months ago had been one of those nights, and Rumlow had been there, his muscular body clad in black making Bucky salivate. He'd been lucky: Rumlow had been attracted to him, too, and, after a quick discussion about safewords and limits, had taken him to the St-Andrew cross and spanked him the way Bucky needed it so much after a hard day at work. A longer discussion had followed a few days later, with a clear contract stating what each one's hard limits and preferences were.

Rumlow liked to inflict pain – sometimes more than Bucky actually liked to endure – and rarely refused to help Bucky when he asked for it. As far as Bucky was concerned, that was the perfect relationship, no matter how often he left the club or Rumlow's home with scars and bruises that would take too long to heal.

 

Today had been an especially hard and demanding day, the firefighters being called to a bad car crash site, and to a few fires that had led to injured people. Bucky _needed_ to forget and just let himself be handled and taken care of; he was already slightly floating in his subspace just from kneeling at Rumlow's feet and from the general atmosphere of the club.

He was almost shaking with anticipation as Rumlow turned the key in the lock of the room, but stayed perfectly still until the bigger man indicated for him to enter.

There was a cage in the middle of the room. Small – small enough that Bucky wouldn't be able to stand or even sit comfortably in it – with sturdy-looking, metal bars.

 

''No, no,'' he whispered, and turned around when he heard the door close behind him.

 

Rumlow was smirking at him, almost lazily. He didn't look surprised with Bucky's reaction; actually, he looked rather _pleased_ about it.

 

''Well?'' he asked, and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

''Sir, I, that – that is one of my hard limits, that's a red,'' stammered Bucky, a wave of panic threatening to overwhelm him when he saw that Rumlow was coming closer to him, a black key in his hand.

 

He hummed thoughtfully and stopped right in front of Bucky, their body almost touching. With a finger, he stroked softly, almost delicately, his cheek; a second later, his whole hand was closing around his neck and squeezing.

Bucky chocked and tried to get free, but it was useless. He was taken by surprise, already lacking air, and Rumlow was stronger, more determined.

 

''You need to learn,'' the bigger man growled in his ear, ''that what _you_ like and don't like doesn't matter much to me. You're here to please _me_ , you little bitch, got it? And I want you in there now.''

 

He let go of Bucky's neck, and the firefighter spluttered, coughed, and realized too late that Rumlow was now holding his arm. He tried to twist out of the grip, but overwhelmed with panic and fear, just managed to make Rumlow angrier. The man twisted his arm behind his back, making Bucky cry out, and forced him to kneel. From there on, it was far too easy for him to get Bucky in the cage: he lifted him up with a groan, opening the cage's door with one foot, and let Bucky fall in it with a shout.

Bucky was already scrambling to get out, out, _out_ when the door closed and locked with a sinister noise. He whimpered and hit the bar right in front of him with his closed fist at the same time his head banged against the top bars loudly. Stunned, he fell on his knees, curling on himself as he looked at Rumlow, black dots dancing in front of his eyes. The dom looked incredibly proud of himself and was smiling almost fondly at Bucky, juggling the key in his hands.

 

''I can't, I can't, red, red, _red_ ,'' Bucky whispered in a litany, pleading with his eyes and his voice. ''Sir – Brock, please, it's a red, I want out, _please_.''

''Oh, you're so pretty when you beg,'' Rumlow crooned. ''Keep going, but I need a drink for that.''

 

With a dry sob and wide eyes, Bucky watched as his dom made to leave the room.

 

''No, NO!'' he yelled. ''Brock, don't leave me in there, don't – no,'' he sobbed when the door closer.

 

He was alone.

Alone in the room, alone in the cage.

His body jerked as he struggled for air, ankles hitting the hard bars painfully.

He was alone and he couldn't breathe.

Couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, _couldn't –_

 

***

 

Tony was enjoying a drink with Steve, laughing about some silly thing, when his phone pinged. He held a finger up to apologize and got it out of his pocket to look at the screen. It was a message from Jarvis, the head of security of the club.

'' _There's a situation in Room 2. I'll meet you there in 5._ ''

He cursed softly and got up from his seat at the bar.

 

''I'll be back in a few minutes,'' he said to Steve, smiling. ''Sorry about that.''

''It's alright, go do what you have to do, I'll keep an eye on your drink,'' his friend winked.

 

He laughed – he was pretty sure his glass would be totally empty when he'd come back – and hurried out of the bar, into the main room, and then along the corridor with the doors leading to private rooms.

There was a small panel next to every door, with a screen and a button to push to get linked to security.

 

''Jarvis? Can you show me what's happening?''

 

The man didn't answer, but there was a muffled _click_ and the screen lit up to the live broadcast of what was happening in the room.

Each video was erased as soon as the night ended – of course they were, members of fetish clubs usually were big fans of their privacy – but the live broadcast was something Tony had insisted on when he was making plans for his club. It guaranteed some security for the members as someone was always watching the feeds and checking to see if everything was alright.

The screens were small but of high quality, and he couldn't miss the young man curled on himself in the rather threatening-looking cage. He changed camera to have a better angle of the room, checking to see if the bathroom door was open or if there was any light behind it, but no. Nothing.

 

''Fucking hell,'' he cursed softly. ''Is he _alone_ in there?''

 

At the same time, the man's body jerked in the cage, and Tony winced. That _was_ a situation, yeah, no doubt about it. He took the spare set of keys from his pocket and was about to unlock the room when a hand gripped his wrist painfully. When he turned around, there was a man towering above him. It was one of the new members; he didn't know him as well as he knew Steve or Bruce, regular customers of the club. He'd never even seen him do a public scene, just seen his face in the bar or watching the show in the main room.

 

''I wouldn't do that if I were you,'' the man growled, and his grip tightened.

''Funny, that's _exactly_ what I was going to say,'' Tony answered in a light tone, fighting not to wince. ''Was it you that left him all alone in there?''

''Little bitch needed to learn a lesson. He's…''

 

But Tony was probably never going to know what _he_ was, because the man suddenly turned an interesting shade of green as Steve's foot connected with his groin. He didn't wait to see how the fight would turn out – he had his idea, honestly – and turned instead to finally unlock the door.

 

''Thanks, Steve,'' he said hurriedly before entering the room. ''Don't let him go… and don't hold back,'' he added in a whisper as he was met by worrying noises.

 

The rooms were soundproofed, which was probably a good thing for the other asshole, because Steve would have hit him a _lot_ harder if he'd heard what was happening inside.

The young man – James, Tony remembered he'd met him during one of his first visits and talked with him, and his name was James – was sobbing on the ground, and struggling to breath. From time to time, he whimpered a weak _red_ , and Tony's heart clenched painfully.

He turned around and barely had time to open his mouth and ask for the key before it was landing in his hand; he made a note to thank Steve profusely when things were quieter.

For now, though, he ran to the cage and opened the door with shaking hands, getting a better look at James. His hands were an angry red where he'd probably hit them on the bars trying to get free, and tears were streaming down his face.

 

''Oh, sweetheart,'' Tony whispered with a pained voice, and kneeled to look less threatening. ''You're alright, it's over, come on.''

''Red,'' a hoarse voice answered, and Tony had to work really hard to keep a soothing voice. ''R– red.''

''Yeah, yeah, I know, you don't want to be in there. It's okay, James, it's okay, we'll get you out of there. Come on, breathe for me, you're safe now, breathe.''

 

A couple of seconds later, Steve was next to him, his eyes angry and jaw tight.

 

''Can you get him out of there? He's not– he can't do it himself. Just, just get him on the bed, okay?'' Tony pleaded, and his friend squeezed his shoulder gently before crawling into the cage – this fucking thing was _small_ , my God – and taking hold of James.

 

The man whimpered and tried to break free, but Steve soothed him, humming under his breath and pulling him gently along until he was out of the cage and could actually be carried to the bed. Steve looked impressive, sometimes threatening, when you didn't know him, but the way he carried James and put him on the bed was all gentleness and soothing words.

Tony turned to the door, and took a few steps forward so he wouldn't have to talk too loud to be heard from Jarvis.

 

''I want you to take this asshole in your office, and teach him the basic rules of never leaving a sub alone, and always respecting safewords,'' he said, his voice tight with anger. ''Don't give him a reason to go to the police, but don't be gentle either, okay? And send a note to every club out there so they know they can't let this man play. And, Jarvis? Thanks for being observant.''

 

Jarvis nodded with a quick smile and put Rumlow back on his feet roughly, half-dragging him along the corridor. Tony watched them go for a second, and then re-entered the room; he walked to the mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and one of orange juice, that he put down on the nightstand closest to James, then went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth with hot water. When he came back to the bed in which James was lying, he put the washcloth gently on his forehead, and grabbed a blanket when he saw the man was still shivering.

 

''Can you go and grab his stuff in the lockers?'' he asked Steve in a soft tone. ''Just put everything in front of the door, I'll take care of it. And of him. And Steve, please get this fucking thing out of there.''

''He'll be alright, Tony. It's not your fault.''

 

Tony smiled at him, but it was a small, sad smile, and Steve didn't insist, dragging the cage out of the door and closing it softly behind himself.

James was still shivering, curled on himself, his arms gripping his knees tightly, the picture of self-defense. His eyes were open and watching Tony, but he wasn't fully there, too lost in the lingering panic and helplessness.

 

''I'm going to touch you,'' Tony warned, and held up a hand. ''I won't harm you, just try to warm you up, okay? If it's too much, if– if you don't want it, just say _no_ or shake your head, and… I'll listen, James, I will.''

 

He moved very slowly, so James could get away if he wanted to, but the other man didn't move, just followed his hand with his blue eyes until it was out of his view. Tony put it on his back, over the blanket, and rubbed it slowly. With his free hand, he got his phone out of his pocket and turned some soft piano music on.

And he waited.

James seemed to settle down some but then, as Tony was getting confident that he would speak soon, he jerked and his breath caught in his throat. His heart was suddenly racing under Tony's fingers, his eyes wide and panicked.

 

''No, honey, no,'' Tony whispered in a soothing voice – he was freaking out internally, but he wouldn't be a big help if he began to panic and hyperventilate too – and he stroked James' hair with his fingers. ''You're out of this thing, you're safe, I won't let someone hurt you. Breathe with me, there, look.''

 

He took hold of James' fingers in a loose grip and led them to his chest, where the other man could feel his heartbeat. He breathed slowly, deeply, and never stopped his slow, comforting strokes; James was looking at him intently, almost never blinking, and so he looked back, and tried to smile.

 

''I promise it's alright, nothing bad's gonna happen. Yeah, deep breaths, that's good, that's so good, keep going, just like that.''

 

The praise seemed to help some, James relaxing slightly when he heard Tony congratulating him, and so he kept going with an endless stream of praise and soothing words until, finally, some color came back to James' cheeks and he stirred.

 

''Here you are, sweetheart. You're doing so good, you're so strong. Thirsty?''

 

James nodded, hesitant, and Tony reached for the bottle of juice and opened it. He put his hand on James' neck and helped him sit up a bit, holding the bottle up to help him take a few sips. James opened his mouth to try and say something, but Tony shook his head.

 

''Don't try to talk if you're not ready yet. I'll wait, take your time.''

 

There was a glint of thankfulness in the ice blue eyes, and Tony smiled at the younger man, putting a strand of hair back behind his ear.

Minutes went by and James' breathing finally settled down completely, his short, gasping breaths leaving way to much rather comforting deep breaths. Some life came back into his eyes, and he seemed more alert now, less lost in his own head and fears.

 

''Ti'ed,'' he finally slurred in a hoarse voice.

''You can sleep, you know. I won't even judge if you snore,'' Tony teased lightly, and the answering smile – even if it was small and shy – he got was everything to him.

''No…'' James shook his head and visibly fought for words. ''D'wanna alone.''

''Then I'll stay,'' Tony answered simply enough. ''I'll stay and watch over you.''

 

James nodded and closed one eye, then the other. When his breathing had deepened, Tony sighed and put his forehead down on the mattress.

That never, _never_ should have happened.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hinted at another chapter for this: here it is! And maybe others to come too, who knows?  
> This story is (quite loosely, but still), inspired by Chris Owen's Deviations series (they're nice books!) :)
> 
> Also, I'm pretty sure there's an inconsistency in the verb tenses between the first chapter and this one. Sorry about that :/
> 
> Also also, I'm aware that firemen with prosthetics are rare. Or don't exist, I don't know. But let's say this is taking place in a world where prosthetics are advanced enough to be like real flesh limbs, okay? :)
> 
> This fills case number 9 of my MCU King Bingo: Kneeling
> 
> Enjoy!

When Bucky left in a cab a few hours later – after Tony’d made sure that he was really alright and not just pretending for his sake – Tony was pretty sure he’d never see him again around the club. It made him probably sadder than he should have been for someone he barely knew.  
And at first, he was right.  
Two months passed, and Bucky was nowhere to be seen. They worked on a new security system to allow new members in the club, a careful interview with them and a monitored first scene to limit the risks of something like this happening ever again. He reinforced the security team, hiring one young man and one woman to help Jarvis with the monitoring of the club. Despite the scare and the lingering guilt he was still feeling, Tony still enjoyed spending time there, watching from a distance the different relationships forming: members who became friends, friends who became members. He'd spent a particularly good time watching Natasha flogging Sam, her new submissive, until he cried and begged – for more or for her to stop, even Sam didn't seem to know.

Then, suddenly, on one night like so many others before, Bucky was there.  
Of course, it was Steve who told him; no matter where the guy was in the club, he knew who else was there and most of what was happening in the other rooms.  
Tony was chatting amiably with the barmaid about drinks and snacks, brainstorming about what kind of non-alcoholic drinks they could add to their already quite extensive card, when Steve put a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see the big blond looking at him cautiously; apparently, he was planning to find a partner to play with this night. His muscled torso was left naked, for everyone to look and appreciate, and the tattoo of a galaxy, which took his whole back, was glistening under the bright lights of the room. Tony raised an eyebrow as his eyes fell to the – really tight – dark leather shorts he was wearing, and Steve met his gaze with a roll of his eyes.

''Someone's waiting for me in one of the play rooms,'' he clarified, to satisfy Tony's curiosity. ''But that's not why I'm here. Bucky's there. James.''  
''Really?''

Tony got up in a second and gestured to the barmaid that he needed to leave.

''He just came in, five minutes ago. He's in the main room now, watching a shibari demonstration.''  
''How does he look?''

Steve shrugged, but, judging by his relaxed stance, it probably wasn't that bad.

''He's a bit uncomfortable. Hasn't talked to anyone yet, but he doesn't seem to be scared or panicked either. At least, he hasn't bolted out as soon as he came in.''  
''Yeah, I guess that's something, at least. Thanks for telling me, Steve, I'll go and talk with him. Have fun, right?''

Steve chuckled and waved as he got away, walking away quickly and with a happy bounce in his steps. It'd been a while since Tony'd seen him like that; been a while since he'd seen him willing to play, even.  
He promised himself to talk about it more when he'd see the blond again, but for now, he had more urgent things to do. Bucky wasn't hard to notice in the room, at least not now that he knew he was there. The young, dark-haired man was sitting up ramrod straight on one of the comfy sofas installed in the room, gaze fixed on the woman demonstrating an intricate full-body knot on her younger submissive. James was dressed classically and pretty neutrally; usually, members liked to show their preferences in their clothing, and it wasn't hard to see if they wanted to top or bottom for the night. But James, with his dark blue silk shirt, opened wide on his sharp clavicles, and his tight black slacks, was not as clear, even to Tony's expert eyes. One thing, though, was easy to understand: it was a nice way to find an excuse if someone insisted too much on having him as a submissive when he didn't want to.

''Hello,'' Tony greeted him softly, sitting down gracefully next to him. ''We haven't really been introduced properly last time we saw each other. I'm Tony Stark.''

James apparently needed a few seconds to put his memories back in place, and then he smiled, small and with his eyes downcast. He shook the hand Tony was holding, and the older man took note of his strong grip.

''James Barnes. Most people call me Bucky, though. I– Tony Stark, is that… Are you the owner?'' he asked, and gestured wildly to everything that was surrounding them.  
''Yep, that's me. Which means that I want to apologize for what happened last time you were there, James. We take great care in making sure that none of our members ever feel in danger, or more uncomfortable than they want to, and what happened is completely unacceptable to all of us. I can assure you that I, that we, did everything we could think of to ensure something like this would never happen in here again. And rest assured that, if you still want to spend time here, special care will be taken in ensuring that you're safe, and consenting to everything happening.''

Under Tony's serious eyes and sincere words, James couldn't help but blush, the tip of his ears and his cheeks bright pink even under the subdued lighting. He scratched at his stubble, and looked away at the stage, staying silent for a few seconds.

''I should have known better, too,'' he admitted in an ashamed whisper. ''Should have realized something was wrong. But I needed the relief, and–''  
''Hey, hey, no, none of that. You know that in here, Doms are the ones responsible. This man was an asshole; you tried to stop him, but he's a sadist, and not one of the fun ones. Blaming yourself won't help anything; he probably would have hurt you no matter what.''

James sighed, and wiped at his eyes. He nodded, but he was far from convinced, and he wasn't really trying to hide it. Tony knew from experience how bad these kinds of situations could be for Subs, especially for ones that hadn't been in the scene for long: trust was hard to build between partners, and it was harder still when one of them already had his trust abused.

''Can I offer you a drink?'' he blurted out before he even realized it. ''Or something to eat, maybe?''  
''With you?''  
''Well… If you'd rather drink or eat alone, that's fine with me, too, but I think I could enjoy spending time with you. It's up to you, really.''  
''I… Yeah, okay, I guess,'' James shrugged after a second. ''I'd gladly eat something, haven't had much time to do so before coming here.''

And so Tony led James to the quiet, private restaurant zone behind the bar. He had it built after he realized that most of the couples liked to spend some time together, discussing, before they did anything else, and that the bar or the other rooms weren't always the most comfortable places to do so. The food wasn't fancy, per se, but it was good, with a large choice of comfort snacks for those who liked to spend time there after a scene. He'd hired some of the club members as waiters and waitresses, in exchange for a free membership, and their leather clothes made for a nice introduction before members began to play in earnest. Although he'd forbidden physical contact without explicit consent between the customers and the waiters, it had happened more than once than a customer-waiter relationship became a dominant-submissive one; the waiters knew how to tease and find someone fun to play with.  
They sat in silence for a while, James reading the menu carefully, and Tony gesturing for one of the waiters to bring them water and bread to start. When both of them had ordered, Tony sat back in his chair, watching James twiddle his thumbs nervously.

''You know,'' he said softly, keeping his tone reassuring as much as he could, ''if you don't feel comfortable here, with me, I can leave, that's not a problem at all.''  
''What? No, no, sorry, I– it's just that I wondered if, if Brock would–''

He sighed and hid his face behind his hands. The waitress arrived with their food at the same moment, and Tony winked at her as she settled their plates down. He waited until she had left to answer Bucky's silent question.

''He's been banned from here. Rumlow, I mean. Our security team knows what he looks like, and that they cant let him in, no matter what he says or does. There's no way he could come back, James, I promise. We got that taken care of.''

James nodded gratefully and, this time, he seemed to be more convinced of Tony's promise. He picked at his food shyly, but the first bite was apparently good enough to get him to annihilate the rest of his meal; he wasn't lying when he said he was hungry, then. Tony let him eat in peace, savoring his own food but, once they both had put down forks and knives, he took a deep breath and asked:

''When we were talking, before, you said you needed the relief. Is that why you came back?''

The younger man took his time to swallow his last bite, watching Tony seriously.

''Don't know if you know that, but I'm a fireman,'' he said and yes, okay, that explained his huge arm and general musculature. ''It's not exactly the most relaxing job, as you can guess. A few years back, I had a boyfriend who liked… kinky things. Spanking, tying me up, nothing too heavy, but it was a nice way to get me to understand that giving someone this control over me made me forget what'd happened during my day, made me stop wondering what would happen the next. It's– it's addictive. When we broke up, when I lost all these feelings of quietness at once, that was really hard.''

He took a sip of cold water, and Tony watched, almost transfixed, as a drop escaped and rolled from the corner of his lips.

''I had a few one-night stands after that, but none of these were really satisfying. I like the sex aspect of this all, I'm part of the subs who enjoy having sex during or after a scene, but sex on its own isn't enough for me. So I came here, once, not really knowing what to expect. But I figured, what the hell, right? Your website said nobody was forced to take part in anything, I could just sit back and enjoy the show if I wanted to. I did, this first night, but I came back a few days later, and then again, and again. I played with some of the club's dominants, had a really nice time, and then– then I met Brock.''

James' jaw tightened at this point and, impulsively, Tony reached for his right hand, caressing it with the tip of his fingers. The other man jerked, surprised, but he didn't pull away.

''Now all of that got taken away from me again, and I've been missing it like crazy for the last two months. I tried coming back, once, but I couldn't imagine playing with someone I barely knew, so… Still, there's this– this hollowness, I guess,'' he said, and gestured to his heart and head. ''I'm missing something, and I feel bad in my own skin, like it's, it's too tight for me, and there're so many thoughts up there that won't shut up… I wanted to try again, tonight, because I need it. I want it so much it's like a physical need.''

The fingers of his left arm, of his prosthesis, clenched in a fist, and he shook his head, inhaling shakily. Tony looked at him, at his sharp jaw, blue and pained eyes, the glistening left fingers and the skin and bone right ones, the way his knee bounced under the table, and took a decision – quickly, like he often did.

''Would you trust me enough to get you out of your head tonight?''  
''You?'' James asked, looking up suddenly, and the shocked expression on his face almost made Tony smile. ''But you don't… people say you never play.''  
''Haven't in a long time, that's true,'' he admitted with a shrug. ''I had enough fun watching, or demonstrating sometimes. Doesn't mean I never want to. I'd like to try with you, because I feel like you're really worth it when someone does everything you enjoy. I'm experienced; some would say old, but my endurance's still good. I know limits, and I always respect them. If you want, though, we could get someone to monitor us. Or we can just keep talking, or I can introduce you to friends of mine. It's your choice.''

James considered it for a while, turning the empty glass of water between his hands, biting at his lower lip thoughtfully.

''What would you be willing to do?'' he finally asked.  
''Nothing too heavy for a first time. I won't whip you, or tie you up too intricately. No exhibitionism, except if you want someone monitoring us. Something simple but good for you, enough to get you to relax.''  
''You'll tell me what you're doing and give me the choice if I want to keep going or not?''

Something painful flashed in Tony's eyes, but he nodded, serious.

''Of course, I will.''  
''Then…''

He took a deep, heaving breath, and got up from his chair… only to gratefully sink to his knees at Tony's feet. Tony's heart was thumping heavily in his chest, but he smiled, and passed his fingers through James' hair.

''If you can promise that you'll respect my safewords,'' James said, his eyes downcast, ''I don't want anyone watching us in the room.''  
''Oh, James, I will always respect safewords. Look at me, come on. I promise you, you only have to say the word, and everything stops. Alright?'' he smiled, relieved, as James nodded, and rewarded him with a stroke of his fingers on his cheek. ''Now, I only have a few questions and a few points I want to talk about. Your arm.''

He gestured to James' prosthesis, and the man wriggled uncomfortably, tugging on his sleeve to try and hide it.

''No,'' Tony ordered with unmissable steel in his tone. ''Don't hide from me, don't hide anything. You're gorgeous just like you are, James. I only wanted to ask you if there was anything specific I needed to take care of. Anything I can't do?''  
''The– My shoulder's really sensitive. Maybe, if you can, try not to hit too hard on it, it hurts, and not in the right kind of way. I got painkillers with me if it gets too bad, on my left pocket. Don't hang me just from this arm, either. There're a few positions I can't hold for too long, but I can't really tell you before it starts hurting.''  
''Good, thank you. I know how it feels like when it's hurting in the wrong way,'' he explained and rubbed at his chest, at the scars behind his silk shirt. ''So no matter where in the scene we are, I'll need you to tell me if something's wrong. Your pain tolerance in general?''  
''High,'' James mumbled, a touch of red on his cheeks. ''I like it hurting.''  
''Good. We're gonna have fun, then.'' he smirked. We'll use the usual safewords: red, yellow, or green. You use it if you need to, I'll do too, if I need to. Alright?''  
''Yes.''  
''Don't call me daddy during a scene, because that freaks me out good time. Sir or Tony are fine; not a big fan of master, but if you like it, I can deal with it. Swear and shout all you want, but do not insult me or shout at me, or I'll have to punish you. Don't order me around either. You can talk, no need to ask for permission, and give suggestions, and beg – please, beg – though. You don't have to look down; look at me, watch, I want to see your eyes unless I tell you otherwise. All clear?''  
''Yes, sir.''

He looked up at Tony, who noticed that his pupils were already dilated; apparently, he hadn't been lying when he'd said that he needed the relief.

''Anything you wanna say before we get started, James?''  
''I like it when you call me like this,'' he smiled, shyly, ''feels different than when people call me Bucky. I've only got three things to ask.''  
''Shoot, I'm listening.''  
''If you wanna have sex, I want us to use a condom. I'm clean, but–''  
''But you're cautious. Good, that's good. Don't worry about this, I'll use one if we need to. What else?''  
''I don't feel up for humiliation tonight,'' he blushed, and looked down again. ''I know I'm not supposed to choose, and that you're the one in control, but I don't… don't want to be called bad things tonight. Sorry.''  
''James. I'm not the one in control; you are. It might look like that's not the case, but I promise, you're still the one choosing what you want and don't want, ultimately. So thank you for telling me. Good boy,'' he added, and smirked when he felt James shivering, resting more heavily against his leg.  
''You're a busy man, I know that, but, I'd really like it if you didn't leave me at the end. He did and I didn't like that. I need someone to be there, at least for a little while.''

Tony's heart clenched, and his fingers tightened for a second around Bucky's shoulder.

''Sweetheart, I wasn't going to leave you alone in the room. Of course you need someone to be there; almost everyone does. Is there anything else?''

James shook his head, and Tony finished the last drops of his water, putting the glass back down on the table with a thud. He got up and gestured for James to do the same; the younger man got back on his feet quickly and gracefully, and followed Tony out of the restaurant. He was walking just a step behind him, head bowed and back straight, and Tony almost regretted not meeting someone he knew just so he could show how lucky he got for the night. They grabbed a key to one of the private rooms, and Tony sent a quick text to Jarvis to ask him to monitor the room carefully; he had enough experience to have trust in his own capability to recognize when his partner was uncomfortable, but he didn't want to take any risk. They were silent as they walked along the row of play rooms, until they arrived to the seventh one, the one Tony had usually chosen on the rare, faraway nights he'd played.  
He opened the door for James and let him in, but stopped him before he could go too far, pointing to a big, red button next to the door.

''If there's any problem, you only have to push this, and security will be here a minute later. Understood?''  
''Yes, sir,'' James answered. He'd looked at the button, and Tony knew he'd heard and noted what he'd said, but most of the tension already seemed to have disappeared from his body; he wasn't shaking nervously anymore, and he'd stopped twitching, too. ''Where do you want me?''

Tony hummed thoughtfully and looked around the room, finally grabbing one of the thin cushions off the bed to put it down in the middle of the room.

''Take your shirt and pants off. Watch and jewelry off, if you've got any. Then kneel there; tell me if you need one more cushion, or if you're cold.''

James obeyed quickly, and Tony let himself enjoy the view of his muscular chest, of his firm ass as he leaned down to put his carefully folded clothes on a chair. He finally left him to rummage through the numerous cupboards and chests, finding what he wanted quickly enough.  
When he turned around, James was already kneeling on the floor, his back forming a delicious arch of tanned skin, his heavy, thick cock, half-erect on the hollow between his thighs, and Tony couldn't wait to make all of him… redder.

''Okay,'' he said, sitting down on his heels to show James what he was holding. ''Anything you're objecting to?''

Judging by the way he was looking at the crop, the small vibrator and the leather handcuffs, that was a big no. He shook his head, but Tony tsked.

''Need your words, honey. Everything all right with you?''  
''Yes, sir. All good. Please,'' he added in a small whisper, his long hair hiding the sudden blush on his cheeks.  
''Before we start, I want to make sure of something. Is anything sensitive besides the scar tissue on your shoulder?'' he asked, and traced the red and white skin on his left shoulder.  
''No, that's basically it. If you don't hit anywhere within one or two centimeters of it, I'll be alright.''  
''Great, thank you, James. Now, hold your hands like this, please.''

He looked at Tony and took the same position, bending his elbows, hands clasped loosely right behind his chin. Tony wrapped the dark leather handcuffs around one wrist, then the other, checking the fit with a finger. He clipped a little metal hook in the rings of both handcuffs to link them – he didn't want James to be able to spread them too much.

''Not too tight? Alright with your shoulder?''  
''It's perfect, Tony,'' James breathed, his muscles relaxing a fraction more.

He was already half-hard, and Tony jerked him slowly, making him jump with the unexpected friction; after a few jerks only, he was moaning, glazed eyes watching Tony's hand on his cock, but he didn't move, didn't seek more, and Tony gave him a few seconds of friction more than strictly necessary as a reward. Once he was fully erect, Tony strapped the little bullet vibrator at the base of his cock with a thin ring of leather; it wasn't tight enough to keep him from coming. Tony expected for James to stop himself from coming without any exterior help.

''Hold onto this, okay?'' he demanded, putting a small bell in one of his hands. ''If you need to stop but don't feel up to talking, just let it fall or shake it so I can hear you. Ready to go?''  
''Yes, Tony. Thank you.''  
''Haven't done anything yet, sweetheart,'' he smiled affectionately, and traced along James' spine with a fingernail. ''I don't want you to come just now. If you feel like you can't hold it any longer, you tell me, and I stop the vibrator. If you come before I give permission to… well, I'll have to add a few more hits with this. Don't touch yourself, of course. And keep count, okay? We're gonna start with twenty for now.''

He leaned down and pushed to button at the base of the vibrator to turn it on, on the lowest setting; James' hips jerked, once, twice, uselessly in the air, but then he settled down, a heavy breath filling his chest, and stayed more or less still on his knees.

''Good boy,'' Tony praised, and squeezed his shoulder when he trembled. ''Get ready.''

The crop was light in his hand, smooth dark leather with a simple square, thin end. It'd hurt, but not too much, and it wouldn't mark for too long; there wouldn't be any blood, except if Tony really wanted it, and for now, he didn't. He swung it in the air a few times, getting used to it again, and then stepped around James, stopping a step behind his backs. His skin was shivering, little goosebumps of apprehension and excitation on his back and arm; Tony stroked the skin with the tip of the crop for a second and then he hit, without any warning, on the right side of his spine.  
A strangled sound escaped from Bucky's throat, hoarse and pained; he tried to get away instinctively, but kneeled up again a quarter of a second later, murmuring a quiet ''one''. Tony nodded and put a bit more force behind the second hit, hitting the left side, at the same height. He tried it out for the five first hits, determining how hard Bucky liked it, how high were his limits; they proved to be quite high and, by the tenth hit, Tony was beginning to sweat. He wiped at his forehead with a shaky hand and looked at his handiwork, enjoying the way James' back was turning slowly redder, how his chest was heaving with his breaths. He'd closed his eyes now, and moaned after each hit, punctuating them with numbers and a muttered ''thank you'' from time to time.  
Tony didn't want him to get out of his headspace by waiting too long, and so he started again, laying vertical stripes above the horizontal ones; he was rewarded with a cry after the thirteenth one, and from there on, James seemed to truly let go, tears rolling on his cheeks and voice breaking with his shouts. It was beautiful, to be honest, and Tony was grateful that he was focused enough on the task at hand to ignore his throbbing cock.

''Gonna– gonna come,'' he whimpered, desperately, and Tony scrambled around him and reached for the vibrator to quickly turn it off.

James whined, high-pitched and bucked his hips in the air. He was panting now, his face red and his hair stuck to his temples with sweat; his eyes were half-opened, glazed and pupils blown wide, and he tried to smile, mostly managing it.

''Thank you for telling me, that was so good. You're gorgeous sweetheart, let's give you a little break, hm? Few deep breaths for me, that's it, you're all right, so sweet. Here we go. How're you feeling?''  
''Good. Great. Can still think. Don't wanna think anymore.''  
''Oh, I'm gonna take care of that for you, honey, don't worry. Nothing hurts too much?''  
''I need more than that for it to really hurt, you know. Lay it on, Tony,'' he smirked, even though he tried to hide it behind his hair.

Tony snorted, rolling his eyes, but still flicked a nipple hard between his fingers to reprimand him.

''Don't tease me, or I'll show how hard I can really hit, hm? Now, how many were we at?''  
''Seventeen, sir.''  
''Seventeen. Good. You still need more, uh? Let's say we put the vibrator back on, and you don't get to come before the thirtieth. No break except if you really need it. After the thirtieth, you're free to come. I'd even advise you to do it quick, so you don't have to get to know my real strength.''

James looked up at him from under his eyelashes, falsely shy, and licked his lips sensually.

''Yes sir.''  
''Good to go?''

He took a deep breath and clenched his hands a couple of times, before he nodded.

''Good to go.''  
''Alright, then, breathe, and don't come.''

This time, he turned the vibrator on an higher setting, and James immediately began to moan in earnest, his cock back to full erection in a second, now twitching against his stomach, leaving a wet trail behind.  
Tony stepped around him again, and flexed his arm twice to relax his protesting muscles. And then he began to hit again; quick, without any break between two impacts, laying it all over the wide expanse of his back, so James wouldn't know what to expect. The noises that rang in his ears were obscenely beautiful: moans and whimpers; begs for it to stop, and then for Tony to give him more; at some point, James began to sob, heavy and loud, his shoulders shaking. The muscles in his back were clenching, neck arching back when an especially hard hit landed. Tony's arms were beginning to really hurt now; it'd been a long time since he'd done that more than just for show, where he hold back a lot. He was panting, too, sweating through his shirt; it felt like the temperature in the room had gone up a dozen degrees, smelling like sweat and sex, adding to the general atmosphere.  
When they reached thirty, James shouted out the number between clenched teeth, and his whole body shuddered, almost enough to make him lose his balance. He was humping the air desperately now, but three more hits of the crop on his lower back, right at the junction with his ass, were enough to finally get him to let go. As vocal and noisy as he'd been during the whole ordeal, his orgasm was actually pretty silent; his mouth opened wide on a silent shout, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut against his relief. Tony couldn't resist the will to step around his kneeling form and look at him as he came, hard, spurting cum all over his stomach and the cushion under his knees. He almost fell forward, but Tony reacted quickly enough, putting his hands around his shoulders to stabilize him; he turned the vibrator off in the next second, slipping it gently off James' spent cock, and putting it down next to them.  
He waited for James' breath to settle, for him to open his eyes, stroking up and down his arms gently, humming softly. After a few long minutes, the other man finally stirred and opened his eyes, smiling tenderly at Tony.

''C'n't think 'nymore,'' he slurred, his voice hoarse from all the shouting, and Tony smiled with affection, stroking his fingers through the wet strands of hair to get them back in order.  
''That's good, then. You were amazing. I'll untie your arms, okay?''

James nodded sloppily, and let his head fall forward, into Tony's soft tummy; he was breathing deep and slow now. Tony made quick work of the handcuffs, and put them down next to the vibrator and the crop, on the floor, figuring he'd clean everything later.

''Feel up to getting up, sweetheart? We'll be more comfortable on the bed.''

Despite James' nod, he still needed some help getting up and walking the few meters to the bed. He fell on his back heavily, but whimpered and was quick to turn around on his stomach, trying to get a look at his back.

''It's very pretty, you know. You redden up beautifully. C'me on, get under the covers so you don't get cold,'' he asked, and tucked him in the red sheets, climbing in the bed right after.

He sneaked an arm around his waist, cautious not to touch his back too much or too hard; even through the sheets, he still felt the heat radiating off Bucky's hurt back.

''You were beautiful,'' he praised, and James hummed happily, wriggling closer to him, head in Tony's neck. ''Gorgeous. You make the prettiest noises, and you obeyed so good. I'm so lucky you let me hurt you like this.''

James was blushing, he could feel it, and stirring uncomfortably, but Tony didn't let him go; put a hand on the top of his head and kept him there, safe between his arms. He didn't even stop with his praising, because James wasn't asking him to stop at all; kept it coming, telling Bucky how beautiful he was when he submitted, gorgeous and touching in the way he gave up control.

''You back with me, sweetheart?'' he asked softly when James began to move around more and to blink.  
''Little bit. Still fuzzy.''  
''Good, take your time. Would you be okay if I went to grab some snacks and something for your back?''

He nodded and rolled a bit to free Tony, who hurried to the little fridge in the corner, grabbing iced tea and some chocolate, then to the bathroom for the aloe vera.

''Are you cold?'' he asked as he came back to bed. ''I need to take the covers off to take care of your back, but it can wait for a bit if you're feeling cold.''  
'' 'm okay. Not cold.''

He worked in silence, mostly, only making pained, sympathizing noises when he felt James jump as he touched more sensitive areas. He hadn't drawn blood, and the marks he'd left behind weren't deep; they wouldn't bruise too badly or stay too long either. Just enough to feel really good and relieving for James.  
He took the time to cut the chocolate in small bites, holding them to James slowly, who savored them, and kept asking for more until the whole thing was eaten – not even leaving one bite for Tony. He gulped the iced tea down as eagerly, but shook his head when Tony asked him if he wanted more.

''Jus' want some sleep. Stay?''  
''Of course, if you want. Here, get back under the covers. I'll watch over you, okay?''

And watch over him he did, for the whole hour James was asleep; wondering if it would just be a one-time thing, hoping to hell that it wouldn't. He was willing to try a longer, more serious relationship again, felt, deep inside himself, that James would absolutely worth every obstacle and difficulty.  
This night, James left without much more discussion, and Tony watched as the taxi rolled away, praying to every entity that he would come back, soon, and that he could talk seriously with him. He had plans for everything they could try out, already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, criticism, suggestions, as usual, are greatly appreciated!  
> You can also talk to me on my Tumblr: cityofaangels :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> First of all, thanks to everyone who left a comment, you're adorable <3
> 
> New chapter: this one's slightly shorter, and less action (smut)-filled, but it was important for the rest of the story.  
> Hope it's not too boring: don't worry, in the next one, Bucky and Tony are back to have some fun :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony closed the file he was working on, and scratched his goatee thoughtfully. He wasn't part of Stark Industries anymore – not officially, at least – but he still invented and innovated for the society. He'd stopped being publicly invested a year after the… incident, right after Pepper'd taken over his role as CEO, and once he'd made sure that the society worked and invested the way he wanted it to. Now, he was officially retired, but unofficially had a part in almost all of the major inventions and developments made in the R&D department. They worked together quite well: most of the time, if he managed a real breakthrough, he gave every file he had on it to one of the most recently hired employee, and gave them his personal contact infos, so they could chat and resolve the most difficult problems together. It gave him an outlet for his never-stopping brain, something practical to do during his calmest days, when he wasn't working on a new club, or for one of his charities,… and more money that he'd ever need, added to the major profits he made thanks to the important shares he'd kept.

Anyway, the young woman working on his latest project – advanced protective gear for soldiers – had discovered that the material they were working on had a major, unpredicted flaw, and they'd just spent ten hours trying to figure out how to improve it, test after test. They were happy with the solution they'd found, but now Tony was wondering how this particular material could be used for first responders gear. Which, of course, led him to thinking about Bucky. _Again_.

To be completely honest, he wasn't sure he'd ever stopped thinking about the younger man since the night they'd spent together, five days ago. He'd gone to the club every day on the hope of seeing him again – no such luck. He valued the members' privacy far too much to ask for James' contact details (each member had to provide at least one way for the club to contact them), but still, the idea had crossed his mind. Steve was smirking at him every time he saw him now, no matter how many times Tony reminded him that he wasn't any better, with his secret relationship with a ''special someone''. A few times – okay, maybe a _lot_ of times –, Tony had tried getting him to talk, but it was useless: when Steve wanted to keep something secret, he really kept it _secret_ , and at some point, Tony had understood that it was better to wait for him to begin talking about it voluntarily. So there was only the one option left: waiting and hoping.

He sighed, and checked the time before getting up, stretching, and leaving to get ready for the night. Maybe he'd be luckier tonight.

 

***

 

''Hey, Barnes!'' Clint called out to him, jogging from where he was standing, next to one of the trucks. ''Wanna grab a drink or two with us tonight? We're going to Logan's for a crazy night.''

 

Bucky chuckled and clapped him on the back, shrugging out of his heavy, black jacket.

 

 ''Thanks for the invite, Barton. Already got something planned for tonight, though. Maybe another night, yeah?''

'' _Something planned_? Damn, you're secretive. What, leaving for some crazy sex escapade tonight, uh, is that it? Lover boy's worth more than your team? I'm hurt, I really am.''

 

The water Bucky was about to swallow almost got spit out; as it was, he coughed a few times painfully, and focused hard on not turning bright red. Clint was looking at him with an amused smirk, his muscled arms crossed in front of his chest.

 

''I wasn't trying to kill you with my little joke, y'know. Don't worry though, Lieutenant, I won't say anything to anyone about your crazy sex life. See you in a few days, get some rest!''

 

He was still chuckling as he left to join the rest of the brigade waiting for him. Bucky watched him go, ruffling his sweaty hair absently, and wondering how exactly Clint would react if he knew that his assumption had been totally right. He wasn't ashamed of who he was and what he liked, far from it, but still, he knew that a lot of people didn't understand it – or, worse still, had read Fifty Shades and _thought_ it was enough to understand what BDSM was. If his brigade happened to see whip marks on his back while he was changing in the locker room, he wasn't exactly sure of how they would react. He had the feeling he didn't really want to know, too.

No need to get his brain all twisted thinking about that, though; he needed to go take a quick shower before getting back home to get completely ready. The shower room was empty as he came in, and he didn't waste any time getting rid of the sweat accumulated during the long, exhausting, and hot day. He slipped on a pair of thread-bare sweats and a worn, soft grey cotton shirt; brushed back the hair falling into his eyes and put his uniform back in his locker, checking quickly that everything was in order and nothing was ripped.

 

His apartment was just a few blocks away from the fire station, and he walked there, enjoying the fresh breeze that finally brought some relief from the blazing sun. Even during the coldest days of winter in New York, wearing the heavy uniform could be painful, but with this heat, it was a real pleasure to be able to be outside wearing light clothes and not completely suffocating. He stopped on the way to buy a fresh bottle of water and a few ready meals, too lazy to actually want to cook during his two free days – he already was the official cook of the station when he was on duty, most of the time.

A few months back, he'd added a small closed shelf in his big wardrobe, motivated by the deep fear that, one day, his mother could have to go grab some stuff in his apartment… and would be surprised by all the kinky gear he'd already bought. The thought of how she would react when she saw his small collection of leather pants and rope harnesses had been a good enough incentive to buy a few planks, a good lock, and to spend an afternoon hammering away. Now he grabbed the key and spent a few minutes in front of the opened door, holding up every option, weighing the pros and the cons of the different outfits. He finally opted for something not _too_ extravagant: his best pair of black leather pants, which were a pain to put on, but were totally worth it, if he dared say so; and a red, shiny top, almost transparent at the nipples, and purposefully bought a size too small. He'd complete it with his combat boots, and a touch of eyeliner, but for now, he hopped on the shower again, and washed himself carefully _all over_ , figuring that he would maybe be glad of it sometime later in the evening. Honestly, even, _hoping_ that he would be glad of it. For a little while, he thought about putting a plug in, too, to be completely ready, but… he wasn't actually sure that someone– that _Tony_ would be there tonight. He counted on it, because the urge to play was strong, once again, and the few hours he'd spent with Tony had been enough to make him want a _lot_ more.

After their scene, he'd wanted to ask the older man for more, wanted to ask him to come back a few days later, and to plan something out, but he'd chickened out at the last second and hated himself for it ever since. He'd been on duty for the last four days, and the only free night he'd had had been spent sleeping in his own comfortable bed; that didn't mean, though, that he hadn't wanted to go to the club and see if Tony was there. Thankfully, the firefighters had been kept busy enough to keep him from thinking about it too much.

But tonight, he had all the time in the world to play and get out of his own head; no one would be calling for him to go and stop a fire, no firefighter would ask him to cook something. He was free to do whatever he wanted, and he sure hoped Tony would be there to help him along with this.

 

***

 

It was a Friday night and, like every Friday night, the club was extremely busy, despite the limited number of members allowed in the club. For now, Tony had only made a quick tour of every last room, but it had been enough to understand that almost every member had decided to be there for some fun. Maybe it was because of the show on the stage, in the main room: they'd invited a couple of experienced Doms and Subs, so they could exhibit their skills to the less experienced ones. Currently, a middle-aged man was whipping his pretty Sub, a woman tied to the St Andrew's Cross. Her back was already bright red, and her shouts had actually surprised Tony when he'd heard them; the few minutes he'd spent there, though, even far from the stage, had showed that the relationship between these two was incredible. It seemed like they didn't need to talk anymore; like the man knew when he had to stop a quarter of a second before the woman asked for a break. It was gorgeous to see, and made a touch of jealousy and envy blossom deep in Tony's guts. He wanted something like this, too, wanted it bad.

After the usual round of hands-shaking, he'd settled on one of the bar stools, and he swiped the room with his eyes now. And what he saw did not disappoint: Natasha was coming in, followed by Sam, a step behind her… and Steve. Now that Tony was actually seeing it in front of his eyes, it was stupidly obvious: the times Steve disappeared always coincided with the times Sam and Natasha disappeared behind one of the closed doors of the play rooms. He'd even been the one to introduce them, he probably should have known from the first second that it would end like this: Natasha was used to having more than one Sub – she pretended that she needed more than just one to be kept busy.

When they stopped right in front of him, the red-haired, gorgeous woman was smirking at him, an eyebrow raised almost challengingly. Behind her, Sam was smiling his tooth-gaped smile, and trying to hide it; Steve's ears were desperately red, and he kept gazing at the floor, neck arched.

 

''Hey, Tony,'' Natasha drawled, a touch of amusement in her husky voice. ''How are you?''

''You… You are an _evil woman_ , Nat! I've been trying to figure out for a week who Steve was seeing. A week! I bet that made you laugh.''

''It did, actually. A lot. It was funny watching you try to figure it out and failing. But now you know who the mysterious person is.''

''I– You know what? I'm gonna be the mature adult here and just wish you well, no matter how evil you are. And Steve? Don't think I won't get back at you for this.''

 

The blond man looked up, for a quarter of a second only; but Natasha was far too observant, and had apparently decided that tonight, her Subs weren't allowed to look up. The hit that landed on Steve's ass was loud, even in the noisy room, and even if the man was quite a bit taller than Natasha, he jumped and winced, apologizing in a whisper.

Tony watched them go, shaking his head, and thinking that one thing was for sure: these three would probably never be bored nor boring, and Natasha had quite a handful. When he looked back at the other door, James was standing there, tentative smile on his lips, and swaying from one foot to the other. Tony's heart missed a beat but, the next second, he was on his feet, and hurriedly walking to James.

 

''Hey there,'' he said with a wink. ''Back already?''

 

James took a step forward and held his hands up, like he wanted to touch Tony, but he let them fall again and smiled awkwardly.

 

''Hello. Yeah… I actually wanted to talk to you. If you've got time, I mean. If you don't, it's alright.''

 

Tony sighed inwardly, thinking about how hard it would be to get rid of James' sweet, but sometimes painful, hesitance and carefulness.

 

''I was hoping I could talk to you, too. Hungry?''

''Well, I ate just before coming here, so not really. I can keep you company, though.''

''I'm alright. C'me on, I asked them to hold a table for me in the back.''

 

In Tony's back, Bucky raised his eyebrows, with the vague feeling that Tony had _really_ been expecting him. They followed a waiter to one of the quietest tables, where people would have to really want it to overhear their conversation. Both of them ordered a lemonade, and they waited for their drinks to arrive before starting to talk.

 

''Are you all right?'' Tony asked, a touch of concern in his tone. ''No drops after last day? Your back doesn't hurt too much?''

''No, no,'' James was quick to answer, with a little smile. ''It was perfect, Tony, really. I felt really good afterwards, for a few days. Floaty, a bit. It was nice.''

''Great, then. I–''

 

He shook his head and took a sip of his lemonade to take hold of himself again.

 

''You know,'' he finally found the courage to say, ''rumors here are mostly right. I haven't had a regular sub in more than three years. And even then, it was… complicated. I miss it, sometimes, but I always thought I'd wait and, maybe, someday, I'd find someone worth the involvement. Or maybe not, but that would be alright, too, I guessed. I don't believe in love at first sight, James, really, I don't. But you… Last week was _amazing_. I feel like I could have something great with you, lots of things that I could teach you about yourself. And I'd _love_ to be able to teach you everything I know about our lifestyle. Maybe that's not something you're interested in, maybe you don't want to have to do anything with me, and that's all right, too, because it's your life, and you get to decide what you want to do with it. But _if_ you want to spend more time with me… I'd be really glad of it.''

 

His head was bent down now, watching intently a crumb of bread forgotten on the table, and fingers closed in tight fists.

 

''That's… I'm probably not the best choice out there, Tony.''

''Maybe not,'' he shrugged, and winked, ''but still, you're the one I chose.''

''My work's not the easiest one to work with, either. I spend a lot of time at the fire station, my schedule's all fucked up most of the time.''

''James, hey, listen to me. I'm telling you I'm interested in trying something with you. I'm not forcing you or anything; you want to try, we try. Maybe it'll work out, maybe not; we'll see.''

 

James looked up at him, lots of emotions in his eyes: doubt, fear, want.

 

''How would you want to do that? Meeting in the club? Somewhere outside of here?''

 

The smirk on Tony's face was something else, all proud of himself: Bucky felt like he was missing something, there.

 

''Let's say that my place is… interesting for this kind of activities. I'm not gonna spoil the surprise, hm? But it would probably be the better place for us to try something. If you feel safer here, though, I can make do, too. All the rooms are well furnished, with everything we'd need. We could have fun, there.''

 

He'd definitely managed to make him curious, now; he wanted to see this special place he seemed so proud of.

 

''Contract?'' he asked simply. ''Is that something you do?''

''Usually, yes. With basic rules for the both of us: what I expect you to do for me, what I have to do for you. I'd also like you to fill a sheet with everything you like and don't like. Things you refuse to do; things you don't know if you want to try or not. That would allow me to know better what your limits are, and maybe _you_ 'll know better too. I won't write anything that ties you to me, though. We'll discuss the rules and the details together, adapt everything to your work schedule. I'm not one of the traditional doms, with fixed rules: if there's something you don't feel comfortable with, or something you want to do for me that I haven't mentioned, we'll change it.''

''Do you expect your subs to do everything at home for you?''

''If that's something they don't like? No. Some need to, to feel useful to me. But I don't need for someone to wash my dirty clothes and cook for me to know that he's my sub. I find other ways to make it clear,'' he winked.

''Fire station needs to be able to contact me at anytime. I could have to leave in an emergency some time or another.''

''You've got your life; we'll deal with it. Keep your phone close to hand, where we can hear it. I'm telling you, I won't stop you from living.''

''What happens if you love something that I don't want to do at all?''

''Either I get you there slowly and try to help you understand why I like it; or we don't do it. As simple as that. We're two in a relationship, not just me; I'm in charge most of the time, but I'll always listen to you. Always.''

 

James nodded and played with a drop of lemonade on the table, spreading it around.

 

''Honestly, I want to try,'' he sighed after a minute. ''I'd been meaning to ask you if we could spend more time together, maybe try something more regular. Dunno if I've really got the right to ask this of you, though. You're, like, super experienced in this, and I'm just a newbie, with some bad memories behind me. You deserve someone better than me, someone who could offer you… more.''

''Look at me, please. James, I don't know what's going through your head now, but you've got the right to have good things too, you know? I'm telling you I want to try this; from what I understand, you want this, too. I'm a big boy, old enough to know what I want and what I don't want. So please stop trying to find reasons _I_ wouldn't want you: you won't find any. The important question here is if _you_ want to try, no matter what you think I deserve. So I'm gonna ask you again: are you interested in becoming my sub, James?''

 

He looked at him, then, and smiled after a second.

 

''Yes Tony. _Sir_. I am.''

 

A big sigh of relief escaped from Tony's lips, and he grinned, gripping James' hands in his own and squeezing them.

 

''That's awesome! I'm glad you are. I swear, I'm gonna do my best so you don't regret it. I thought– thought that maybe it would be wiser not to play tonight. Maybe spend some time together watching the show? If you need more than that, I'll give it to you, but I feel like it'd be better to… stay reasonable, I guess.''

''Skin's not crawling right now, I'm all right. I'll trust you on that: let's watch the show.''

 

They smiled to each other and got up, walking to the main room and sitting down right next to each other on one of the couches. The rest of the night was spent talking together, Tony explaining some skills Bucky'd never heard of, and the young man blushing adorably a lot of the time, as soon as the people on stage were more exuberant. He was sporting a boner, deliciously obvious in his tight leather pants, and Tony teased him a couple of times, brushing his fingers over it while reaching for his glass of water, an evil smirk on his lips.

This small evilness, though, was nothing compared to what he said right before they left to go back home. They'd decided on when they would meet again, three days later, when James had two consecutive free days; he'd be able to spend the night if he felt like it. Tony'd just explained that his driver would come get him, and that he'd send a list of different kinks for Bucky to fill cautiously, and was about to walk away after a quick kiss on Bucky's cheek, when he turned back and said, a twinkle in his eyes:

 

''And try not to come before that, okay? I'd appreciate it.''

 

Bucky was left gaping after him, and groaning painfully: he felt like it would be three very, very long days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always greatly appreciated!
> 
> Also, if you'd like to see a particular kink in this story, you can send me an idea on my Tumblr (cityofaangels): I'll gladly write it if it's something that inspires me :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what I hate writing? Descriptions.  
> Do you know what most of this chapter is? FREAKING DESCRIPTIONS.
> 
> Anyway. We'll be back to fun play next chapter!  
> Enjoy :)

When Tony had said that his driver would come fetch him, Bucky had actually expected he's send a taxi to the meeting point they'd agreed on. Maybe even come himself.

He'd definitely _not_ expected the black, sleek Audi that stopped with a screech in front of the Starbucks, attracting a lot of stares. Nor the jovial man who got out and opened the trunk, grabbing his overnight bag before he opened the passenger door for him. He was too surprised to actually think about it too much and sat down without a word, groaning when he realized that it was a dumb move. What if the man wasn't Tony's driver? What if he'd just been kidnapped by the mafia? He'd really hoped he'd be smarter than that.

 

''Are you ok?'' the driver asked with a concerned frown. ''You look a little pale over there.''

''You're not a murderer, are you?''

''Uh. No? I'm Tony's driver. Happy Hogan. He forgot to send you a picture, didn't he? God, he _always_ forgets.''

 

At that, Bucky finally managed to relax a bit, and he chuckled nervously.

 

''Yeah, he forgot. I forgot to ask, though, so I can't really blame him. Nice to meet you, Happy. I'm Bucky.''

''Boss mentioned that. Is your name really _Bucky_?''

''Is yours really _Happy_?'' Bucky retaliated with an eyebrow raised, and smiled when the other man snorted.

''Fair enough. Just a stupid nickname that stuck through the years. Nobody calls me by my real name anymore.''

''Same for me. My name's _James_ , actually, but everyone calls me Bucky. Except for Tony.''

''He's never been able to do what everyone does,'' Happy lamented, shaking his head, and that launched the discussion on Tony's various antics – there were a lot of those, as Bucky was beginning to learn.

 

They drove out of the city, chatting amiably and laughing together, until the landscape became greener, and the houses bigger and less frequent. They were in one of the richest suburbs, Bucky knew that; he'd never actually been there – they had their own fire station, of course – but he'd spent what was probably an unhealthy amount of time browsing around on the Internet, looking for overpriced houses that he could never offer.

The one they were now approaching was typically one of those: made of light wood, with a darker roof, there was a long, gravel-covered driveway leading to the entrance, high hedges guaranteeing the owner's privacy. There even was a portal, with a small camera whose light turned green as they came closer, allowing them to enter. As they drove closer, Bucky could only stare open-mouthed at the carefully kept, colorful garden, the numerous windows, and the modern porch where Tony was waiting for them, sitting on a light blue chair, barefoot and with a tablet on his knees.

 

''It's beautiful,'' he said, and Happy turned to grin at him.

''Wait to see the inside. Boss moved here a year ago, he had everything done just like he wanted it. I've got to admit, he's got pretty good tastes. Don't tell him I said that, though.''

 

They stopped right in front of the porch, and Tony got up to welcome Bucky, a big smile on his face, leaving his tablet on the chair to grab the bag Happy was holding.

 

''Hey there, Bucky, Happy. Everything all right on the road?''

''Yeah, boss, no problem. Need me for something else?'' Happy asked, throwing a glance at Bucky, who still hadn't said anything and was just staring at the house – the _mansion_ , really – with wide eyes.

''Nope, we're okay there. I'll call if I need to, okay?''

''Sure. Enjoy your day, right?''

 

Tony rolled his eyes as Happy climbed back in the car, and they both watched and waved as he went away, the engine roaring deliciously. After a second, he turned to Bucky and raised an eyebrow.

 

''Something wrong?''

''No, no, it's just– do you really _live_ here?''

''Yeah,'' Tony laughed, and put a hand on the small of his back, leading him to the door. ''I lived in the city until last year, but I got tired of the noise. They don't really need me back there anymore, and I've still got someplace to stay over there when I'm too lazy to drive back. It's far nicer here – less people, more trees.''

''It's gorgeous, really.''

 

The other man smiled proudly and opened the door with a flourish, gesturing for Bucky to enter. He stopped a few steps in, taking in the sight around him: the walls were painted in pastel blue, and there was a modern, grey cupboard, where Tony probably put away his shoes and jackets. Right next to it was a small, black screen, and Bucky approached, looking at it curiously.

 

''Oh right, I was about to forget,'' Tony said, sighing. ''You need to meet Jarvis. Jay, say hi.''

''Hello, Mister Barnes,'' a British voice greeted, seemingly out of nowhere, and Bucky jumped, instinctively looking around and above him.

''What's that?''

''It's my AI. Artificial Intelligence. It's a– a robot voice? Yeah? No. Well, he basically controls everything around here: lights, temperature, everything. He's not a _real_ person, but he can learn like a real person. If you've got any question and I'm not around, you can always ask him; he'll probably know how to answer.''

''Did I just change dimension? Is this Star Trek?''

''No! Though, actually, I could try to– you know what? Never mind. I promise Jarvis won't interfere if you don't want him to. He knows how to keep quiet, don't you?''

''I do, sir. Although some of your behavior tends to make it hard, sometimes.''

''Tattletale,'' Tony grumbled good-naturedly, and then turned to Bucky. ''Are you freaked out? I know it can be weird.''

''No, no– no freaking out. I'm just… not used to this. Did you create him?''

''Yeah, couple years ago. He was pretty basic at first but, like I said, he's a fast learner.''

''That's awesome. What's this, then?'' he asked, pointing to the screen.

''Oh. Well, it gives you the temperature,'' he showed, swiping left, ''tips on how to dress for the day. Things I shouldn't forget. Important events. Really, it shows whatever you want it to. Handy, right?''

''I guess so. It'd probably help me remember more things.''

''C'me on, then, I'll show you around. No, no, keep your shoes on; we're gonna get back outside in a few minutes anyway.''

 

Bucky straightened up again, and followed Tony along the corridor, to an open living room,  furnished with a glass coffee table, two huge, dark blue sofas, a couple of armchairs, and a huge television screen, bordered by two tall shelves full of all sorts of DVDs.

 

''I'm a nostalgic; even if I don't really need them anymore, I think it makes for pretty decoration,'' Tony commented, stroking the spines of a few of them with a finger.

 

He could only agree – even with his Ereader, he still had more than one shelf stocked with books. With a smile, he took note of the joysticks properly put away, and of the magazines haphazardly thrown on the coffee table.

The kitchen was beautiful, too: glistening white and gray appliances, a basket filled with fruits that made Bucky salivate, and all sorts of knives hanging on a wall.

 

''Big cook?'' Bucky asked.

''I wasn't before. Now, though, I have more time. I survived a few catastrophes with burnt meals, and now I'm not too bad. I make _mean_ Alfredo pasta. What about you?''

''I don't cook much at home. Too lazy. But at the station, I'm often the one the others designate to get the food ready. I'm probably not too bad, either.''

''We're going to get along fine, then. Come on, let's go upstairs. Oh right, there's still a bathroom here; it's not the prettiest one, but it can help. Downstairs, there's my workshop,'' he gestured to a staircase adorned with tasteful pictures. ''I'll show you around later, if you want.''

 

They climbed up the other staircase, and Tony opened the first door right.

 

''That's my bedroom. Come on in, look around.''

 

Bucky obeyed and watched curiously. He didn't really know exactly _what_ he'd been expecting, but that wasn't it: the bedroom was nice, but completely neutral. A big bed with beige sheets, a walk-in closet, a window that opened on the garden, and an ensuite bathroom. There wasn't even a bedpost; the night tables seemed too small to actually conceal tools, or toys, or anything more than a book and a pajama.

 

''Surprised?''

''Yeah, I– I mean, it's nice, but I maybe expected more… black? Red?''

 

Tony laughed, and walked closer to him, close enough for Bucky to watch the cute wrinkles around his eyes.

 

''I only sleep in here. It's a neutral space. Nothing kinky happens in here. Don't give up too soon, though, we're not done with the tour. Here, there's something else I've got to show you.''

 

They stepped out, and in the room hidden behind the door right in front of this one.

 

''That's your space,'' Tony explained. ''If you're tired of spending time with me, if you need a quiet time, whatever– you can come here. I won't come in unless you want me to. Take a look around.''

 

The bed in this room was slightly smaller, but still bigger than the one Bucky had in his own apartment. The sheets were clean, of a reassuring pastel green; there was a pile of pillows, of all sizes and textures. On a comfortable-looking armchair, in a corner of the room, were piled blankets, soft ones that probably were new. Tony had even furnished the room with a shelf with books lined up, and he'd put down a tablet and headphones on one of the night tables. Another door led to a warm bathroom, with a huge shower packed with soaps and shampoos, and a toothbrush was still packed on the sink.

 

''If there's something you don't like, or something I've forgotten, you just have to tell me– or Jarvis.''

''That's… Don't you think it's a little much, Tony?''

''No,'' Tony answered, shrugging. ''I'm supposed to take care of you, so that's what I'm gonna do. I've got enough money to make you stay somewhere nice. I get it if you don't feel really comfortable with this all. I know it's a lot to take in, but I promise, I wouldn't do anything I wasn't willing or capable to do. All right?''

''Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Just… it's gonna take some time. I didn't really expect _all_ of that.''

''Well, bad news: we're not done. We've not seen the funny part yet.''

 

Tony was grimacing, and Bucky squeezed his shoulder to reassure him, following him as they stepped back in the corridor. Two of the other doors led to guest rooms, but the last one was locked, and the knob to this one was dark. Tony was quick to unlock it, and he let Bucky inside first.

 _This_ was more what he'd expected to see. The room was big, and the curtains were drawn, plunging it in the dark. Behind Bucky, Tony reached to turn the light on, and the calming, filtered light, allowed him to see everything better.

He guessed there was a big window on one of the walls, hidden behind black, heavy curtains, that made it impossible for anyone to see what was going on inside. The bed in itself could pass for normal, with its dark red sheets and silk pillows; the bedpost and headboard, though, kind of ruined this first impression. There were little hooks at different heights on every corner, and vertical and horizontal bars on the headboard would make sure that Tony could choose at which height he wanted to tie the handcuffs he used. The bed was the most important feature of the room, but Bucky didn't miss the armchair sitting conspicuously on a corner of the room: the seat was wide – enough for someone to sit on it with spread legs comfortably – and the armrests as well as the back looked to be adjustable. The floor was a thick, plushy rug on which, Bucky thought, it wouldn't hurt to kneel.

 

''Open everything you like. Ask me if there's something you don't know.''

 

Curious, Bucky reached for the drawer of one of the night table. There was a stock of different lubes, every brand and every flavor, even some he hadn't ever heard of. On the drawer right under were all sorts of condoms, and Bucky was pretty sure he could even glimpse one of those phosphorescent ones. He smiled and went to the other night table, this time discovering blindfold – simple ones, and some more elaborated, but all made in shining, soft material, most of them black. His heart quickened as he opened the last drawer to discover gags of different sizes and shapes.

 

''That's the ones I like the most,'' Tony explained, sitting back on the armchair. ''I've got more right behind this door.''

 

Bucky followed to where he was pointing and opened the hidden door that led to a walk-in, huge closet. On the right and left walls, tools were lined up, artfully arranged and highlighted by bright light. They were resting on a range of cupboards that, Bucky guessed, held everything Tony didn't use quite as often as the ones he'd put on display. He walked to a brown, long crop, touching it almost reverently, and feeling the rich, soft leather under his fingers; next were a pair of handcuffs, like the ones Tony'd used on him the first time; a long rope, dark red, and soft; a small collection of vibrators and plugs; a collection of bonds, for ankles, legs, arms; and a black cock ring that was enough for Bucky to need to readjust himself in his pants.

There was a closet on the last wall, and Bucky opened the doors softly, finding himself in front of a quite impressive collection of disguises on one side; on the other were all sorts of clothes, from leather pants to leather harness, with shirts and boots.

 

''I'm not sure all of these are your size,'' Tony said, now standing next to him and examining the range of clothes. ''That's something I'll need you to tell me, so I can find perfect things for you. You'd look great in some of those.''

''Have you used _everything_ you've got in here?''

''Not all of these,'' he answered, pointing to the clothes. ''Everything you see on the walls and everything in the cupboards, though, yeah. There's not that much here, actually; mostly the things I enjoy the most. I've got a lot more left for you to see.''

''Really? That's not it?''

''Nope. Funny part's not in here. Do you need more time to take a look at everything?''

''No– I think I'm okay for now. Maybe later, I'll have to ask you more about some of these things.''

''Sure. Come on then, we're going back outside. Or no, wait, you haven't seen the bathroom yet.''

 

He opened another door, behind which was an all-white bathroom, with a shower big enough for at least three people, complete with a collection of hooks on the walls, and a bathtub that actually looked more like a jacuzzi.

 

''I've got everything here for tending to hurt backs and asses,'' he smiled brightly.

 

Bucky snorted and followed as they left the room, and went back downstairs, then outside. Tony led him around the house, to a smaller, plainer building hidden behind some trees; it was the size of a – really big – garage, and that was what Bucky expected for it to be.

That wasn't a garage _at all_ , he vaguely thought as Tony opened the door and let him enter first. Garages were supposed to hold _cars_.

The lights opened as soon and they were in, lighting up a corridor bordered by two doors on each side.

 

''The room back home is the one I play in if I'm too lazy to come back here, or if I've got to punish you fast – I never do it out of one of our play spaces. This here, this is what I really had fun doing. You can go, take a look around.''

 

That was all Bucky had been waiting for. He decided to go for the first door on the right, and opened it almost shyly.

What was behind looked exactly like the office of his doctor. White walls, harsh, white light, a medical bed in the middle of it – and okay, the stirrups on each side were definitely not there in his doctor's office –, a sink, a rolling chair, a few cupboards lined up on one of the walls.

He had a feeling he knew what would be behind these other doors, and he wasn't wrong: his smile widened each time he opened a door to discover another setting: a large and impressive office; a miniature bar, complete with restrooms, a back alley, and a small motorbike; and what could have been a dance studio, with a bed, or could just be a pretext to install mirrors on every wall – and on the roof.

The last impressive part of the building was at the end of the corridor, an opened, wide room, with a bed at the center that was as well equipped as the one in the other room. There was a St Andrews cross in front of it – of course there was – and a swing hanging from the roof, from what looked to be a mobile system. More cupboards still were lining a part of the room, and now Bucky understood what Tony had meant when he'd said there was a lot left for Bucky to see. He could literally _feel_ himself grinning like a loon, but he didn't try to hide it; the club was great, but this? This was the kind of display every kinky person would dream of. He could already imagine how much fun they could have with all this material around.

 

''Like it?'' Tony asked, smiling at him.

''I _love_ it. Must have been weird, having people around to install all of this.''

''Oh, you have no idea. Thankfully, I could pay them well enough so they wouldn't go whispering everywhere what exactly they'd been doing this particular week. I try not to think about it too much. Pretty sure there'd be paparazzi who'd _love_ knowing what I like doing when I'm here.''

''Paparazzi? I thought you'd retired.''

''Sure, I did. But they're idiots who can't seem to let go of me. They love their juicy stories. Whatever, let them talk,'' he shrugged. ''Don't really care what they think about me, actually.''

''Is there any risk they could… I mean…''

''They don't know I live here; there's almost no chance they could come here and see you. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect you from these so-called journalists, okay? You don't have to worry about that. Let's go back to the house, if it's all right with you. We've still got lots to talk about.''

 

Bucky nodded, and walked next to him to the house. They settled in the living room after retrieving the needed papers from his bag, and settled down on the comfy couch. Tony searched through the magazines on the table until he'd managed to extract a bunch of papers, and offered some of them to Bucky.

 

''That's the contract I've come up with,'' he said. ''Of course, it doesn't have to be the definitive version: if there are some things you want to add, or change, or get rid of, it's open to discussion. Also, just know that there's nothing of any legal worth behind all this, of course. It's more of a… written agreement between the two of us. That doesn't mean you can't refuse to see me anymore. You don't even have to give a reason if you don't feel comfortable anymore – although, of course, I'd rather we talk about it than see you leave without ever seeing you again. Just read it and tell me what you think of it.''

 

There had been a lot of thought behind all of this, Bucky could tell. There were some duties listed for the both of them – Tony had to take care of him, always respect his limits, never leave him alone in a dangerous position, never attend anything that could really be dangerous to him; Bucky had to promise to do what Tony asked of him unless he could give a reason not to; to _communicate properly_ about what he wanted and what he refused to do; to always be honest. There was even a part on how Tony had to be sure that Bucky could be reached for his job at any time, and able to go in case of an emergency.

 

''Looks good to me,'' he finally said after reading carefully through all the pages. It can be modified at any time, though, right?''

''Of course. You just have to ask and we'll discuss about it properly. Ready to sign it, then?''

 

Bucky nodded and grabbed the pen Tony was holding, scribbling his signature next to his name on the last page; he gave everything to Tony, who signed it more carefully than him.

 

''All right, well, I'll just have to give you a copy of this to take with you when you leave. Now, I've written down a number of rules for you to follow when you're here. Same as before: most of them can be changed.''

 

Once more, it was clear that Tony had some experience in legal-looking documents: everything was carefully laid out, with a precise wording.

Most of these, Tony'd already explained to him the first time they'd played together. Bucky couldn't insult him or shout at him. He couldn't order him around. When at Tony's house, it was expected of him to follow Tony's orders without complaining about them. He would call the other man _Tony_ or _Sir_ during a scene. It was expected of him to know his limits and speak them out. He was to help Tony with everyday tasks as long as he was physically up to doing it. He would be the one to clean and take care of the toys they'd use during the scenes.

He nodded absentmindedly as he read, only looking up once to ask Tony clarification about what he meant with _complaining_.

 

''That means that you're not supposed to talk back to me when I give you an order just because you can. If you've got a reason to doubt me, then sure, speak up. If it's just for the sake of it, I won't allow it.''

 

At the end of the document was explained what the punishment for breaking these rules would be: a number of spanks, to be decided between them. If Tony estimated Bucky had really badly behaved, the punishment would be discussed until they came to a mutual decision.

 

''I'm okay with all of it,'' Bucky nodded. ''Doesn't look to me like it's a lot to ask, really.''

''I'd rather start with light, easy to follow rules. If we decide that it works between us, we can always add more along the line, as we need it. Okay?''

''Sure. Here, I'll sign it.''

''Now,'' Tony said, and reached for the papers Bucky'd put down on the table. ''That's your list of kinks, right? Can I read it?''

''Of course,'' Bucky answered, and stayed silent as Tony read carefully everything he'd written down.

 

It'd taken him some time to fill everything. He knew what his _hard_ limits were; for the rest, it'd been harder. There were some things he wasn't really sure about, but still thought could be fun to test. There were things that scared him but that he thought he could, maybe, like. And there were things he didn't feel ready for now, when he barely knew Tony, but knew he'd love to do with him in a couple of months – if they were still together.

 

''Can I ask a couple of questions about your limits? You don't have to answer them if they make you uncomfortable, but that'd give me more hindsight.''

''Shoot.''

''Okay, you wrote here breathplay is a hard no for you. Is there a reason?''

''Actually, yeah. When you're a firefighter, lacking oxygen's really no fun,'' he grimaced, and Tony made a little understanding noise. ''I've spent some time fighting to breathe in the middle of a fire and I know that it's not the same, of course, but… It's still linked to fear, for me.''

''I get it. We'll cross this off the list of possibilities, then. Complete sensory deprivation?''

 

Bucky sighed; he'd known it would've come up at some point, but still, he didn't really like talking about all this. His right hand instinctively grabbed his left wrist, and he took a deep breath.

 

''Same problem as for cages, actually. Right after I began working, they sent me on an house fire. Long story short, the roof basically fell on me, and I stayed trapped under it for most of an hour. Wasn't able to see anything with all of the smoke, and I only heard weird white noise. Couldn't talk, shout, anything. That's where I lost my arm. So, that's why cages are completely out of question for me: they make me feel trapped. Not a good feeling for me. Sensory deprivation is more of a… not-right-now no, I guess. Maybe, with some time, I could get there and enjoy it. Right now, I don't want to.''

''I'm sorry, about what happened to you,'' Tony said, softly, and Bucky smiled at him gratefully. ''We'll go slow, promise. And no cages. Okay. No incest, age, pet or rape play,  no face slapping, no CBT. Any particular reason?''

''Nope. Just… not anything that I like. Well, I mean, I can like it if you hurt me down there just a _little bit_. Not all this ''crunch them with my boots'' stuff, though.''

 

Tony chuckled and shook his head, finally putting the sheets down.

 

''We'll probably get along fine. That's good, we've got lots of kinks in common. I know you're not too sure about some of them, but I'll get you there, we'll try them out and see what you like. I forgot to print mine, sorry, but I can bring you one now, or just talk about them and send an email to you?''

''Fine with me.''

''Okay, nice. Well, basically, I like the same things as you do, really. I don't do _really_ extreme kinks – scat, or fire play, or mummification, or whatever, I'm not a fan. I won't do extreme things with you right now, either, not until we get to really know each other. That doesn't mean there's nothing left for us to do, of course; just, we'll leave the blood play and this kind of things for later, maybe. I'm really not a big fan of humiliating subs and making them feel inferior; sure, sometimes it feels good to have complete control, but that doesn't mean I have to treat you like a vulgar thing, right?''

 

Bucky nodded with a small smile, and Tony kept on, this time talking about what he enjoyed.

 

''I'm a big fan of orgasm delay and denial – sorry, there'll be times where you'll hate me. I like taking care of you, seeing you let go, no matter how I bring you here. Crops and whips are my favorite, though I also enjoy spanking you barehanded. I love toys, and I love seeing you in pretty things. I guess for now, that's it. We can always talk about all of this later, if you've got any question about my list or yours.''

''I'll take notes,'' Bucky smiled, ''come prepared for next time.''

''Yeah, be a good boy and do that, James,'' Tony said, and smirked when that made Bucky shiver. ''Now, we've got two options. Either we stay here and watch a movie. Or you go upstairs, get naked, and wait for me on the bed.''

''Tony,'' he groaned, and wriggled on the couch. ''I haven't touched myself for _three days_. Bed. Please, sir.''

''Okay, then. Go on upstairs – we'll have time to go out there later in the day, or maybe tomorrow. Get naked and lie on your back. I'll be there in two minutes, top.''

 

Bucky was already scrambling out of the couch and on his feet, and the view of his turned back, of his ass almost right in front of Tony's face, was too hard to resist; he held up a hand and brought it firmly on the meaty flesh, reveling in the noise it got out of Bucky – somewhere halfway between a moan and a groan.

James turned to glance at him as he left, and Tony smiled quite innocently.

Oh, they were going to have _fun_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments are greatly appreciated.  
> It's always worth it to stop and take the time to leave a comment <3

**Author's Note:**

> ... To Be Continued?


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